


Bee Socks

by AnneCumberbatch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bickering, COVID-19, Doctor John Watson, Established Relationship, John Watson is a Good Doctor, John works at a hospital, M/M, Married Couple, Married Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Quarantine, Reflecting real life, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are Parents, Texting, The last chapter is a summary, Tired John, Worried Sherlock, self quarantine, semi-unfinished, video calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23642830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneCumberbatch/pseuds/AnneCumberbatch
Summary: Starting on 4 March 2020, this story follows the spread of COVID-19 throughout the UK.~~Sherlock doesn't believe the virus is any kind of threat, but John is less convinced. With their three-year old daughter and eighty-two year old landlady also in residence, can they afford to take any chances? How will John keep them safe?~~The conclusion to the story has been summarized after chapter 8. But it could be concluded at chapter 8.
Relationships: John Watson & Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson & Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Mrs. Hudson & John Watson & Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 86
Kudos: 89





	1. 4 March 2020

**Author's Note:**

> UK officials announce the biggest one-day increase as 34 cases bring the total confirmed positive cases of COVID-19 to 87.
> 
> Thank you, T, for your invaluable advice and helpfulness when I'm stuck. <3

Sherlock was sitting in the living room, curled up in his chair. He was basking in the peace and quiet of the flat now that Rosie was asleep in bed and waiting for John to return from St. Bart’s Hospital where he now worked at as an attending. The career shift had been an adjustment for them both but had swiftly became a vital compromise in their new lives, allowing them each their own career. Sherlock glanced up at the picture centred on the mantle of John, Rosie, and himself. It had been taken the day of their wedding, almost a year previously. Sherlock smiled at the memory. It had been one of the happiest moments of his life, gaining not only a husband, but a daughter. They had spent the last year finding their routine with John’s new job and despite their occasional squabble between them or a temper tantrum from Rosie, Sherlock knew that he loved both of them more every day.

He perked up as he heard the key turn in the lock downstairs and a smile appeared unbidden on his face as John’s footsteps walked up the stairs. He heard John shed his shoes and coat in the hall and walk into the living room. He tilted his face up, waiting for the kiss he knew was coming.

John did not disappoint and kissed him tenderly if briefly in greeting before nuzzling his face in Sherlock’s hair. “Hello, darling.”

“You smell of disinfectant.” Sherlock’s nose crinkled.

“I always smell of disinfectant.” John straightened and rolled his eyes, heading into the kitchen.

“Doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. Please go shower immediately.”

John huffed, hand on the kettle. “Sherlock, I can’t shower every day. At this rate, I’ll scrub all my skin off to please your nose.”

“You don’t want to make me happy, John?” Sherlock’s lips quirked and he looked at John wide eyed.

“You’re such a dick.” John shook his head fondly and filled the kettle up from the tap. “Did Rosie go to bed alright?”

Sherlock nodded and settled further into his chair. “She painted today, which was such a nuisance. It took me an hour to get all of the paint out of her hair.”

John shrugged and set the kettle back on its base to boil. “Kids are messy. I told you that.”

“I _know_ that. I was just sharing about our day.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Alright, alright.” John took down two mugs. “You just sounded annoyed.”

“Of course, I was annoyed. I spent an hour on my knees on the bathroom tile. But she’s three, John, I know she doesn’t know any better. It’s her teacher’s fault for letting her run her hands through her hair. Her painting is on the fridge.”

John turned his head over his shoulder to look at it. “Quite the little modern artist we’re raising.”

Sherlock smirked. “Indeed. She said it was you.”

“Me?” John frowned and turned to look at the picture closer. “Are you sure?”

Sherlock shrugged. “She was quite insistent. That is a picture of Daddy.”

John gave him a look. “I don’t know, she might just be mixing titles up again.”

“She hasn’t done that for nearly six months, John.” Sherlock’s voice was soft. “You would know that if you were here.”

John thumped his fist down onto the counter. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Sherlock shifted in his seat. “Nothing. Never mind.”

John turned back to him. “No, not never mind. What do you mean ‘if you were here’ I am here. I come home every night and I have the weekends off. I’m here. We’re not having this argument again. We both agreed that we could make this job work.”

“I know.” Sherlock met his gaze for a moment before lowering his eyes. “I apologise.”

“What I’m doing is important.”

“I know.”

“I’m saving lives.”

“I know, John.” Sherlock met his gaze again. “I said I apologise.”

John nodded once before running a hand through his hair. He sighed softly before turning to pour the boiling water into the mugs over the tea bags. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“I was wrong to say what I did. You are here for her. For both of us.” Sherlock watched him quietly.

John nodded and watched the tea seep. “I bought her this pair of socks today. I saw them in a shop window and they reminded me of you and I thought she would like them. They’re in my coat pocket.”

Sherlock stood and made his way to where John had hung up his coat. After rustling about in the fabric, Sherlock pulled them out. The sight of the tiny socks in his large hands brought an involuntary smile to his face. “They’re pink.”

“Yeah.”

“And they have bees on them.”

“It’s why they made me think of you. I think she’ll like them.”

Sherlock walked into the kitchen and planted a kiss on John’s cheek. “She’ll love them. You are a very considerate father.” Sherlock returned to his chair, settling into the leather, holding the little socks tightly in his hands. He looked back up at John and tilted his head. “Something else is bothering you… Something that happened at the hospital. What happened?”

John shifted his weight. “It’s... it’s that new virus, the coronavirus. Covid-19. That’s what they’re calling it.”

“What about it?”

“Well, it’s spreading quite a bit faster than they thought it would. The cases in the UK just doubled to 87.”

Sherlock frowned slightly. “Are you concerned?”

John nodded. “I mean, a little. Especially since we have Mrs. Hudson downstairs and she’s eighty-two now. And we have Rosie.”

Sherlock straightened. “What are you saying? Do you think they’re going to catch it? 87 cases are not that many. There are nearly nine million people living in London, John.”

“I know.” John shook his head. “It’s just, this is turning into a bigger thing than I thought it was going to be. We’ll just need to watch it closely.”

“I’m sure it’ll be nothing.”

“You don’t know that.” John clenched his jaw. “You don’t know that at all. It could be nothing or this could be big.”

Sherlock set the socks on the armrest of his chair, stood, and stepped towards him. “You’re actually concerned about this.”

John nodded, his eyes on the mugs in front of him.

Sherlock stepped behind him and wrapped his arms around John’s waist, resting his chin against John’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. The news is just sensationalizing this. It’ll all blow over soon.” He pressed a kiss to John’s neck. “Come drink your tea and I’ll rub your feet if you want.”

John leaned back into him and closed his eyes. “That would be lovely if you would. Ta, love.”

Sherlock smiled and kissed his neck again, tightening his arms. “We’re going to be fine.”


	2. 10 March 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John thinks it might be time to self-quarantine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6 people have died in the UK, 373 have tested positive.

06:53 John  
 _6 people have died_

06:53 Sherlock  
 _Serial killer?? – SH_

06:54 John  
 _No, idiot, from Covid-19_

06.54 Sherlock  
 _Oh - SH_

06:54 Sherlock  
 _Dull - SH_

06:54 John  
 _We’re at 373 cases now_

06:54 John:  
 _That’s a lot more than 87_

06.54 John  
 _It’s only been 6 days_

06:55 Sherlock  
 _Still not as many as nine million - SH_

06:57 John  
 _I think you should stay in the flat  
_ _today. Call Rosie out too_

06.57 Sherlock  
 _No. – SH_

06.57 Sherlock  
 _This is an overreaction, John.  
_ _She won’t catch this virus from  
_ _her_ _nursery. – SH_

06.57 Sherlock  
 _And I cannot sit around this flat all day.  
_ _You know I’ve been taking my walks  
_ _for a reason. - SH_

06.57 John  
 _I know but please_

06:57 John  
 _Please_

06.57 John  
 _For me_

06.59 John  
 _Sherlock?_

07.00 Sherlock  
 _We agreed you would only say that  
_ _when it’s an emergency – SH_

07.00 John  
 _I know_

07.01 Sherlock  
 _Oh - SH_

07.01 Sherlock  
 _Fine – SH_

07.01 John  
 _Thank you_

07.04 John  
 _I love you_

07.20 Sherlock  
 _I love you too – SH_

07.20 John  
 _< 3 <3 <3 _

07.20 Sherlock  
 _Don’t you have an actual job to  
_ _be doing - SH_

07.21 John  
 _Showing my husband how much  
_ _I love him is also my job_

07.21 Sherlock  
 _You are ridiculous. - SH_

07.22 John  
 _< 3 <3 <3 <3 _

07.26 Sherlock  
 _< 3_

Sherlock had given up on entertaining his rambunctious daughter and so both were collapsed onto the sofa watching telly. Sherlock’s eyes were shut, his arms wrapped tightly around his little girl who was sprawled out on his lap and talking at the television. Sherlock’s eyes fluttered open, hearing a shuffling of plastic and footsteps up the stairs. He turned his head to look towards the door, a small crease in his forehead. “John?”

“Hiya!” John called back as he reached the top of the stairs. He toed his shoes off and walked into the kitchen, heavily yoked with shopping bags.

Sherlock stood abruptly, leaving Rosie on the sofa. “What on earth?” He made his way into the kitchen. “What is all this?”

John nodded. “There’s another pile bags downstairs. I’ll be back in a mo. Hello, sweetheart!” He waved his fingers at Rosie who had hopped up and come to stand next to Sherlock’s leg, holding on to his trousers.

Sherlock blinked several times before bending to pick her up and hold her, looking down at the groceries lying on the floor in plastic bags. Clorox wipes, latex gloves, dish soap, laundry soap, hand soap, shampoo, conditioner, body soap, Dettol spray, interspersed with plastic bags full of canned beans and fruits, Rosie’s favourite crisps, biscuits, and baby wipes. A tremor made its way down Sherlock’s spine. “John, what is all this?”

“I’ll be up in a minute!” John trudged up the stairs, burdened with another enormous load of grocery bags full of more canned goods, boxes of pasta and tea. He unloaded them onto the floor and moved to go back downstairs. “I’ve just got a few boxes of nappies downstairs still to bring up.”

“John, wait.” Sherlock reached out and grabbed his arm. “Why are we suddenly preparing for the apocalypse?”

John hesitated for a moment. “Ah, yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you about that. But I stopped by the store first.”

“And bought the entire store?” Sherlock swept his arm over the kitchen. “This is absurd.”

“Yeah, well, let me finish bringing things up and then we’ll talk about it, alright?”

Sherlock set his jaw. “Fine.”

John gave him a small tight smile before going back downstairs.

Sherlock took a deep breath and looked down at Rosie in his arms. “I think your father has lost his mind.”

“Daddy is silly.” Rosie said very seriously, surveying the kitchen.

His lips twitched. “Mm, yes, precisely.” He set her down after kissing the top of her head. “Why don’t you go up to your room and play for a bit, hm? I’ll call you when dinner’s ready. Then you can show, Daddy your socks, alright? I don’t think he was paying attention just now.”

“Okay, Papa.” Rosie ran over to the stairs and disappeared up them.

Sherlock watched her tiny pink swaddled feet ascend the stairs to her room until they were beyond sight and settled against the counter, folding his arms, waiting for John to return. Once he re-emerged at the top of the stairs with the remaining nappy boxes, Sherlock gestured at the groceries on the floor. “Now, do you care to explain yourself? This is hundreds of pounds worth of groceries, cleaning supplies, and child supplies, John. What the hell were you thinking?”

John held up a hand. “Don’t use that tone of voice with me, as if I’m the only one in this family who has ever spent money on ridiculous things, Mr. I-have-to-have-my-coat-dry-cleaned-twice-a-week.”

Sherlock sputtered. “I _do!_ It gets dirty!”

“If you stopped wearing it every case it wouldn’t!”

Sherlock huffed and opened his mouth to retort, but John cut him off. “Stop. We’re not talking about your coat right now. We’re having an adult conversation about the virus that’s out there.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “John. I thought we did have this conversation four days ago. It’s not a problem. You’re overreacting.”  
“Overreacting? Italy is on lockdown!”

“Oh, I didn’t realise we were in Italy.” Sherlock gave him a look.

John set his shoulders. “Sherlock, this is becoming a bigger deal than you think it is. I think we should take Rosie out of nursery school and implement self-quarantine.”

Sherlock gaped at him. “ _What_?”

“This virus is serious. It’s killing people. And we have Mrs. Hudson downstairs and Rosie is still little.” John took a step towards Sherlock.

“I know, you’ve said that before. But I don’t see why we must lock ourselves in the flat. How long are you planning on keeping us here?”

“Jesus, I’m not keeping you hostage, Sherlock. It’s to protect us, protect you, protect Mrs. Hudson.” John sighed and turned towards the sink, turning on the water and washing his hands.

“I think you’re overreacting, John.” Sherlock reached a hand towards him and rested it gently on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I know you care about us and you’re concerned. But this seems… like a lot. They say it’s just like the flu.”

“It is. It is a flu. You get a fever and a cough, but then it hits the respiratory system like influenza. It can cause you to stop breathing.” John’s voice was soft. “You could stop breathing.” He turned off the water and braced himself against the sink, his breath catching in his chest at the thought. “Rosie could stop breathing. Mrs. Hudson could stop breathing. Jesus. And we’re not prepared. We’re not properly prepared for this.”

“John.” Sherlock pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him. “I know you’re worried. But they’re going to get this under control. It’s going to be alright. No one here is going to die.”

John wrapped his arms tightly around Sherlock, holding tightly onto his shirt and pulling him close. He pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s chest and rested his forehead against Sherlock’s clavicle. “I love you. It’s my job to protect you.”

“I know.” Sherlock murmured back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, questions, & critiques are always welcome.


	3. 11 March 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock attempts a crime scene before John leaves for work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO announces that COVID-19 is officially a pandemic.

The silence of the early morning was broken by the buzzing of Sherlock’s phone on his nightstand. The noise laboriously dragged him from sleep, his eyes slowly squinting open in the dimly lit bedroom. Next to him, John rolled over and swatted at him. “Sherlock. Phone.”

Sherlock grunted in response and reached his hand out, fumbling for the electronic. He pressed the device to his ear. “Mm…Sherlock Holmes.” His voice was rough from sleep.

“Morning, sunshine. Sorry to call you so early, but we’ve got a body for you in Lambeth.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows furrowing sleepily on his forehead and the corners of his mouth pulled downwards. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Well, it’s dead.”

Sherlock gave an agonized groan that caused John to swat at him again. “Well, _obviously_ , Lestrade. I meant, what’s interesting about it. I’m in bed with John and quite comfortable, thank you very much.”

He could feel Lestrade roll his eyes over the phone. “We talked about sharing where you are, Sherlock. And he’s covered in wet blue paint.”

“Who is?”

“The body.” Lestrade sighed.

“Boring.” Sherlock yawned into the phone.

“There’s no other traces of blue paint within one hundred meters.”

Sherlock sighed, “So? This is boring, Lestrade.”

“Sherlock, from what I’m looking at my first guess would be this fellow was drowned in paint, but dumped here, will you come?”

Sherlock hesitated, glancing at John. “Fine. Thirty minutes.” He hung up the phone and pushed away the blankets.

John shifted next to him, waking slowly. “Wh’re you going?”

“Case.” Sherlock moved swiftly to the dresser and started to change clothes.

“What time is it?” John squinted at his watch in the dim morning light.

“Six. Go back to sleep, love.” Sherlock shrugged on his suit jacket. “Body drowned in paint in Lambeth. I’ll be back to watch Watson before you have to go in to work.”

John yawned and sat up. “Wait, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Should have talked about it last night. I have to go.” Sherlock sat on the side of the bed and pulled on his socks.

John moved over to Sherlock’s side of the bed and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s waist. “I need to talk to you about the hospital.” He pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s neck. “You sure you can’t stay home?”

Sherlock turned his head and pressed a quick kiss to John’s lips before standing. “Quite sure. Text me or talk to me before you leave for work. When is it, seven thirty today?”

John looked up at him and nodded, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Sherlock paused for a moment when he saw it. “John, I’ll be perfectly fine. I’ll have gloves on the entire time and I’ll even bring one of those pocket hand sanitizers. Satisfied?”

John opened his mouth to reply, but Sherlock silenced him with a final kiss before rushing out the door.

The taxi pulled up at the crime scene in Lambeth 15 minutes later and Sherlock told the cabbie to wait and walked over to where the yellow tape strung between the tall metal fence next to the Beaconsfield Contemporary Art museum, blocking off part of the pavement that led to the black fenced area next to the building in front of the elevated train tracks that ran behind the museum. Sherlock stood in front of the tape, pulling on the disposable latex gloves John had given him the evening before. There were only a few officers posted around the scene, but Sherlock could see Lestrade and Anderson next to the body. Sherlock stepped forward to move under the when an officer coughed into his hand before grabbing the yellow tape and lifting it for him. “Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock paused. “Um… no.” He waved the man away and ducked under the yellow tape himself. He stayed six feet away from the officer and moved towards Lestrade.

Lestrade lifted his coffee cup in greeting. “Morning, sunshine!”

“Don’t call me that.” Sherlock stepped towards the body; head tilted as he examined the blue prone form.

“Thanks for coming to take a look. Nice gloves.”

Sherlock eyes flickered up to him. “John’s concerned about the new virus.” He knelt beside the corpse and reached out a hand to dab at the paint.

“Oi! That’s wet, don’t mess with it.” Anderson shouted at him from the corner where he was conferring with the forensics photographer.

Sherlock ignored him and brought his fingertips up to his nose to smell before rubbing the small spot of paint into dryness on his gloves. “An hour and ten minutes out of the can, I would say. Industrial, not used for house painting.” He stood and almost pulled off the gloves before stopping himself. “I want to-” Out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock noticed the officer out front coughing into his hand again. Anderson rubbed at his eyes before touching a piece of equipment. He turned slightly and noticed another officer sipping coffee and wiping his mouth with his hand before drying his hand on his trousers. Nine million people in London, but it could be spread through anyone…

“Sherlock?” Lestrade took a step towards him. “Alright, mate?”

Sherlock shut his mouth with a snap, moving towards the exit. He called over his shoulder. “I’m going home. Check his storage unit!”

“Storage unit? We don’t even have an ID on him yet!” Lestrade called after him.

Sherlock ducked under the yellow tape, weaving away from the two officers. “ID badge under his shirt! Text me with any developments, but I’m not leaving my flat! Don’t come ‘round!” He hopped back in the cab and shut the door. “Baker Street.”

John was giving breakfast to Rosie when Sherlock came pounding up the stairs, heading straight to the loo. “Morning… Sherlock?”

“Morning, Papa!” Rosie waved at him from her seat at the kitchen table.

“Morning!” Sherlock waved a hand in greeting as he disappeared into the bathroom. Once inside, he shucked the gloves into the bin, stripped his clothing, and started the shower. He placed all his clothes sans coat into the laundry bin and stepped into the shower. He winced at the lukewarm water but started scrubbing at his body anyways. Once his skin felt raw and shone a slight pink and his hair clean, Sherlock stepped out of the shower and dried off. He then wrapped the towel around his waist and went into the bedroom to change only to be startled to find John waiting for him there, arms crossed. “John. Good morning.” He took a few steps forwards and kissed him hello before moving to get dressed.

“Morning.” John watched him. “What was all that about? Another body exploded?”

Sherlock shook his head as he pulled on his soft pyjamas. “No. I found that I was displeased with the level of personal courtesy at the scene.”

John tensed. “Did they say something to you? Was it that new Lieutenant who’s been swapping off with Donovan? Sean… something?”

Sherlock looked over his shoulder at John with a slight smile. “No. But thank you for your concern. I found their disregard for spreading germs to be not up to standards, so I left.” He paused for a moment, having finished before turning around. “I think you’re right. It would be safer for us to stay in the flat. I told Lestrade such today.”

John’s eyebrows raised. “Do you? Think you could say that again so I could make it my ringtone?”

Sherlock swatted at him with his towel. “Shut up. You say that every time. It’s not my fault my husband’s a brilliant physician. I do bend to your expertise in this area, John.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” John pulled him close for a kiss, their lips pressing gently against each other. “It means a lot to me.”

Sherlock hummed in agreement before shifting closer and deepening the kiss. John reciprocated for a moment before placing a hand on Sherlock’s chest and pushing him away gently. “There’s something I really do need to talk to you about.”

“Must you.” Sherlock ducked his head in for another kiss.

John dodged. “Yes, Sherlock.”

Sherlock straightened and huffed. “Fine then, what?”

“Come into the kitchen. I wasn’t done with breakfast.” John took his hand and led him into the kitchen. “It has to do with the hospital.”

“Good riddance. I’ll be glad to have you to myself for a while.” Sherlock waved a hand and picked a triangle of toast off John’s plate. He looked up and paused at the expression on John’s face. “What.”

John winced. “Well, I’m going to keep working at the hospital.”

“Absurd. You bring the risk of bringing that virus back here. Why should I stay home if you’re going to continue working?” Sherlock sat back in his chair.

“Right. Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it.”

Sherlock frowned. “What is? You’re quitting the hospital, John.”

John absently gave his other triangle of toast to Rosie who had been reaching her hand for it, before taking a deep breath. “I’m not, actually. I’m going to keep working. But I don’t think I should live here anymore. I don’t want to risk giving Mrs. H or Rosie or you the virus, so I’ve found a temporary flatshare near the hospital and I’m going to stay there until things get better. It should only be until the beginning of April, they’re saying.”

Sherlock blinked, his mouth falling open.

“Sherlock? …Sherlock? …Sherlock!”

Sherlock felt a warm hand on his cheek and blinked rapidly, bringing into focus John’s face quite close to his. Sherlock could feel himself crumbling and John pulled Sherlock close to his chest, alarmed. “Oh, Sherlock…” 

Sherlock pushed him away angrily before immediately reaching out, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back into an embrace, wrapping his arms around John’s waist.

John sighed and wrapped his arms around Sherlock, resting his chin against the top of Sherlock’s head. “It’s not that long.”

“How long.”

“Three weeks.”

Sherlock growled and his arms around John tightened.

“Why is Papa making weird noises?” Rosie was giving them a look as she took a bite of her toast.

Sherlock huffed against John’s shirt and John rolled his eyes. “He’s having a bit of a temper tantrum, Rosie. He didn’t know I was going to live somewhere else for a while, so he’s a bit surprised.”

Sherlock pulled back; his eyes wide. “You’ve already had this conversation with Watson? Without me?”

John swallowed, looking to the side. “Well. Yes. Of course, I did. I told her this morning. We had a good conversation about it while you were at the crime scene.”

“Daddy has to live somewhere else because he’s a doctor and is helping people, but he doesn’t want to make us sick, so he is living in a little flat with Dr. Patrick and Dr. Michael.” Rosie looked at Sherlock matter-of-factly, reciting the information she had been told.

Sherlock gave her a look before glaring up at John. “You’ve been planning this. Why didn’t you _tell_ me.”

“It sounds premeditated, but I really only made the arrangements yesterday. Michael lives alone but he has an extra bedroom and a pull-out sofa, so Patrick and I are going to be kipping at his. We’ll each have our own bed and our own space. We’d hardly be there at the same time anyways. You don’t have anything to worry about.” John ran a hand through Sherlock’s hair.

Sherlock sulked, resting his forehead against John’s chest. “I’m not worried about that. You begged me to marry you; I have no reservations about your loyalty.”

John’s mouth dropped and he cuffed Sherlock lightly on the side of the head. “I can’t believe you. Begged, did I? Like it was such a chore for you.”

Sherlock huffed and tightened his arms around John’s waist. “I hate this.”

“I know. But we have Rosie and Mrs. Hudson to look after. So, I can’t keep coming home after being in the hospital. We don’t have the cleaning equipment to combat that. And if I become a carrier myself, it won’t matter if I wash in bleach.”

“This just feels like such an overreaction, John.” Sherlock leaned back slightly. “Is it really necessary?”

“You said you trust me.” John brushed a hand through Sherlock’s hair.

“I do. It’s just… no one seems to be reacting this extremely.”

“Not yet. I want the best for my family, Sherlock. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. And I already discussed things with Mrs. Hudson. She agrees with me that it’s best for everyone’s safety. And we can video chat, and I can still do the shopping if I have the time off. I could even talk to you from the pavement.”

Sherlock nodded. “When are you…” He swallowed before continuing. “Moving out?”

“Tomorrow, I think. If you can manage. The sooner the better so I don’t bring back the virus.”

Sherlock wrapped his arms around himself. “Okay. It’ll only be until the beginning of April. That’s only three weeks.”

“We can make it three weeks.”

Sherlock nodded.

After breakfast, Sherlock took Rosie into the living room to play while John got ready for work. Once he was ready to go, he stood in the doorway of the living room, watching them for a moment. “I love you; you know.”

Sherlock looked up from where he sat, building a makeshift fence out of blocks for Rosie’s horses and smiled at John. “I know. I love you too.”

John walked over and knelt next to him, running his hands along Sherlock’s face to cup at his jawline before kissing him once, twice, three times. Their lips lingered on the last kiss, cherishing each other’s closeness. John pulled away before coming back to press two more quick kisses to Sherlock’s lips. “Have a good day. I’ll see you tonight. We’ll keep talking then, alright?”

Sherlock nodded. “Be safe.”

John bent over and kissed the top of Rosie’s head. “I will. Text me.” He stood and went to the landing.

“Have a good day. Watson, say goodbye to Daddy.”

Rosie waved absently in the direction of the door, preoccupied with the horses on the floor in front of her. “Goodbye, Daddy.”

“Watson, that’s not a very good goodbye.” Sherlock nudged her.

She sighed and put down her horses before getting up and running over to John. He knelt down and she hugged him tightly before planting a dainty kiss on his cheek. “Bye, Daddy. Have a good day.”

John’s lips twitched. “Bye bye, Rosie. Have a fun day with Papa.” He ran a hand through her hair and kissed her forehead before standing. He blew a kiss to Sherlock and left.

15.43 John  
 _Did you see the news?_

15.46 Sherlock  
 _I haven’t watched anything  
_ _other than CBBC all day. – SH_

15.46 Sherlock  
 _Not that we’ve been watching  
_ _television all day. – SH_

15.46 John  
 _WHO just labelled  
_ _COVID-19 as a pandemic_

15.47 Sherlock  
 _Christ, alright. – SH_

15.48 John  
 _And we just got our first  
_ _positive case_

15.48 Sherlock  
 _You’re safe?? – SH_

15.48 John  
 _Yeah, we’ve bumped up  
_ _protocol with masks and  
_ _protective gear_

15.48 John  
 _I don’t think I should come  
_ _back to the flat though_

15.49 Sherlock  
 _John, no, it’s too soon. – SH_

15.49 John  
 _We’ve gotten a positive  
_ _case. Anything could  
_ _carry it back_

15.50 John  
 _I know this is hard. I  
_ _don’t want to do this, but  
_ _we need to. I need your  
_ _support on this_

15.50 Sherlock  
 _I’m here for whatever you  
_ _need. – SH_

15.50 Sherlock  
 _I’ll pack you a suitcase. Would  
_ _that work? - SH_

15.51 John  
 _Please, thank you. I’ll come  
_ _by and text you so you can  
_ _put it outside the door_

15.51 Sherlock  
 _Alright. – SH_

15.51 Sherlock  
 _I didn’t even get to say goodbye  
_ _to you properly earlier. - SH_

15.51 John  
 _I know_

15.51 John  
 _I wish we had more time_

15.51 John  
 _Trust me, I hate this as  
_ _much as you do_

15.52 Sherlock  
 _It’ll be over soon. – SH_

15.52 John  
 _I hope so_

15.52 John  
 _How’s Rosie?_

15.52 Sherlock  
 _[Image sent]_

15.52 John  
 _You both are adorable_

15.52 John  
 _I’m glad you’re with her_

15.52 Sherlock  
 _She is a treasure. – SH_

15.52 John  
 _You’re both my treasure_

15.52 Sherlock  
 _*treasures – SH_

15.52 Sherlock  
 _Soppy – SH_

15.53 John  
 _Dick. And you said it first_

15.53 Sherlock  
 _About the child. It’s  
_ _different when you  
_ _include me. – SH_

15.54 John  
 _Love you like crazy_

15.54 John  
 _Got to go_

15.54 John  
 _Will text you later_

15.54 John  
 _xoxoxoxoxox <3<3<3_

15.55 Sherlock  
 _I love you too – SH_

15.55 Sherlock  
 _Stay safe x - SH_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, questions, and critiques are always welcome.


	4. 16 March 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PM Johnson, in his daily press briefing, urges the UK to take the quarantine seriously and work from home unless essential and to avoid pubs and restaurants. The death toll continues to rise.

18:00 Sherlock  
 _You were correct. Congratulations.  
_ _-SH_

18:34 John  
 **Screenshot Taken**

18:34 John  
 _Ta very much_

18:34 John  
 _Correct about what?_

18:34 Sherlock  
 _The country is quarantined. Your  
_ _predictions were accurate. – SH_

18:34 John  
 _I’m not really that glad I  
_ _was right, but I’m glad you  
_ _and Rosie are safe right now_

18:35 Sherlock  
 _I miss you. - SH_

18:35 Sherlock  
 _Terribly. - SH_

18:35 John  
 _I miss you too_

18:35 John  
 _So so so much_

18:35 Sherlock  
 _Facetime later? - SH_

18:37 Sherlock  
 _Rosie has a picture she would  
_ _like to show you in person. – SH_

18:40 Sherlock  
 _I hope you’re staying safe. – SH_

18:45 Sherlock  
 _The number of cases has gone  
_ _up a lot. Are there more at your  
_ _hospital? – SH_

18:49 Sherlock  
 _“Essential” business is very  
_ _much open to interpretation,  
_ _isn’t it? - SH_

18:50 Sherlock  
 _Rosie desperately needing  
_ _Indian from our favourite  
_ _place would definitely count  
_ _as essential, right? – SH_

18:50 John  
 _Don’t leave the house, Sherlock._

18:50 Sherlock  
 _We won’t. – SH_

18:51 Sherlock  
 _It was meant to be sort  
_ _of a joke. – SH_

18:53 Sherlock  
 _I can see now why that  
_ _wouldn’t be funny. - SH_

18:53 Sherlock  
 _We haven’t left the flat.  
_ _Not even for walks yet. There  
_ _have been too many people  
_ _on the streets. - SH_

18:53 Sherlock  
 _And we’ve been staying away  
_ _from Mrs. H, which has been  
_ _hard on all of us. But you’re  
_ _right, it’s for her benefit. – SH_

18:54 Sherlock  
 _We had a long conversation  
_ _through her door last night  
_ _after Rosie was asleep. It helped.  
_ _\- SH_

18:55 Sherlock  
 _I wish you could come  
_ _home. - SH_

18:55 Sherlock  
 _I miss you. - SH_

18:56 Sherlock  
 _How long do you think  
_ _this will last? - SH_

19:54 John  
 _Hard to say_

19:54 Sherlock  
 _But your best estimate at  
_ _the moment? - SH_

19:58 Sherlock  
 _Give me something to gauge  
_ _this by, please – SH_

20:42 John  
 _I really can’t say_

20:42 Sherlock  
 _That’s why it’s called a  
_ _guess, John. I won’t be  
_ _quoting you in the  
_ _Times. – SH_

21:19 John  
 _I don’t know_

21:19 John  
 _I can’t even guess right now_

21:19 John  
 _There might be over 10,000  
_ _cases right now so who knows_

21:19 Sherlock  
 _I thought there were only 1,543  
_ _so far?- SH_

21:19 John  
 _That we know of_

21:19 John  
 _55 deaths_

21:19 John  
 _So don’t you dare leave  
_ _the flat_

21:20 Sherlock  
 _Alright. – SH_

21:20 Sherlock  
 _I didn’t mean to  
_ _antagonise – SH_

21:20 Sherlock  
 _I just miss you. – SH_

21:20 Sherlock  
 _And want you home. - SH_

22:32 John  
 _Can’t facetime tonight love you night_

22:32 Sherlock  
 _Okay. - SH_

22:46 Sherlock  
 _I love you too. - SH_

22:53 Sherlock  
 _Stay safe. – SH_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments, questions, and critiques are always welcome.


	5. 18 March 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finally gets to video chat with John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The announcement is made that all UK schools shall she down on the 20th.

The phone bleeped with the sound of an incoming Facetime call and Sherlock startled awake, sitting up abruptly from where he had accidentally fallen asleep, sprawled out on the bed. He fumbled for the phone within the sheets before finding it. He ran a hand through his hair before accepting the call. John’s face appeared on the screen and Sherlock felt the world light up around him. “John.” His voice warm and comfortable, like the caress of the sun against skin on a warm Spring day.

“Hey, you.” John smiled softly; his eyes weighted with exhaustion. White headphones were nestled into his ears and the cord ran down towards his chest. Deep red lines scored his cheeks, mirrored on each side as well as a red abrasion beginning to form on his nose. The lines were offset against his pale skin and ruffled blonde-grey hair.

“What happened?” Sherlock’s eyes widened in alarm.

John’s forehead scrunched in thought and his hand flew to his face before his expression relaxed in understanding. “It’s nothing. They’re from the protective gear we’re wearing. Just a bit of chafing. I’m okay.”

“It looks painful.” Sherlock peered at it. “Would those lines be uniform across healthcare workers or does it vary based on the brand of mask?”

John blinked and looked down, forehead creasing in thought. “Probably would vary a bit, but that’s only because most brands have a different style and weave pattern. But most of us have the same kind.”

Sherlock hummed thoughtfully.

“We don’t have enough masks already, so I can’t send you some to figure that out.” John sighed.

Sherlock waved a hand. “Once this is over, I should have no problem completing my analysis. It might prove useful in the future. How was your day?” He leaned back against the headboard, cradling the phone in his hands.

“Long. There are so many people coming in and they’re either sick or they think they’re sick.” John ran a hand over his face. “It’s hard to tell unless you test them. Yours?”

“Rosie and I played hide and seek this morning before breakfast, then she played with her horses until lunch. After lunch, we watched a bit of telly. Then we played I Spy out the window until I had to make dinner. After dinner, she played with her horses for a while again until it was time for bed. I read her a book and put her down. She misses you.”

John closed his eyes briefly. “I miss you too. I miss you both so much. I wish I could come home.”

“You can, John.” Sherlock murmured. “Leave the hospital.”

John’s eyes flashed open. “I can’t just do that, Sherlock. You have to stop asking. People need me here.”

Sherlock nodded, looking to the side. “We need you.”

“It’s only been a week. How are you on groceries?”

“We’re alright. Running low on milk, but everything else is fine. Mrs. Hudson’s running out of eggs. I was planning on going on a grocery run in a few days.”

John huffed. “Don’t be stupid, Sherlock. What would you do with Rosie?”

Sherlock’s back straightened. “I was going to put her in her pack n play in the downstairs foyer. Mrs. H would leave her door open. I’m not stupid, John. I know that everything would need to be disinfected. But Rosie needs her milk and Mrs. Hudson needs groceries as well.”

“I’ll go. I’ll go to the shops tomorrow and pick up whatever you need and drop it off by the front door, okay?” John ran his hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. “Please, just stay inside.”

“John, you’re exhausted.”

“I am perfectly capable of doing this and going to the shops for you. Let me, Sherlock, please.”

“I can go, John. I’m not a child or an imbecile. I have a Ph.D. in chemistry for God’s sake, I understand how to take the proper precautions.” Sherlock gripped the phone tightly, his tone rising slightly.

“Do you? You seem to fling dangerous chemicals and biohazards around the flat in such a way that I think you want us to catch a disease and die.”

“I have not done _anything_ that could be considered a hazard ever since you and Rosie returned to the flat, John. You know that!” Sherlock hissed at him. “How _dare_ you insinuate I would want to harm either of you.”

John closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed at his forehead. “I know, I know. Jesus, I know. I’m sorry.” The camera wobbled as John adjusted his grip on his phone. “I know you wouldn’t, and it was wrong of me to say it. I just… I would feel better if you let me do it. I’m already out here during this. And the stores will likely be crowded. I can run by Friday morning before work. And... maybe say hi in person from the curb? Would that be okay?”

Sherlock sat quietly for a moment; his face impassive. “I do want to see you.”

“I want to see you too, baby.” John looked at him through the phone screen, a deep groove in his forehead. “I miss you.”

A tightness formed in Sherlock’s throat. “Alright. Alright, do the shopping then come by. But only so Rosie and I can see you.”

John nodded, his expression lightening. “Okay. Thank you. I love you.”

Sherlock nodded. “I love you too.”

A noise came from the background of John’s video and he looked up briefly before looking back at his phone. “I have to go. But I’ll text you tomorrow, yeah? And text me with yours and Mrs. H’s grocery lists.”

“Do you really have to go so soon? We’ve barely spoken.” Sherlock swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“’Fraid so. I’m sorry, darling. I’m in the on-call room tonight and someone else just came in to sleep. But text me tomorrow, alright?”

Sherlock nodded. “Sleep well, John.”

A smile touched the edges of John’s mouth. “Sleep well. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The phone went dark and Sherlock slumped against the headboard. It had only been a week, but already it felt like a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Questions, comments, and critiques are always welcome.


	6. 20 March 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John stops by Baker Street to say hello from afar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The schools in the UK have closed. All pubs, restaurants, gyms, and social venues have closed.

07:43 John  
 _Outside. Bring disinfectant  
_ _for the groceries_

07:45 Sherlock  
 _Coming – SH_

Sherlock set Rosie down in the front hallway and knelt, straightening out the outfit she had picked out that morning. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Remember, you have to stay inside the house, alright? We can only talk to Daddy, we can’t go near him, alright?”

“But whyyy.” Rosie fussed; her forehead crinkled. “I want to give him a kiss.”

“That is exactly what you must not do, Watson. It’s to keep us from getting ill, alright? Pinky promise me you will stay right next to me. It will be very hard, I know, but you can hold my hand.” Sherlock held out his hand, pinky extended.

Rosie sighed softly and nodded, wrapping her pinky finger around Sherlock’s. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl.” Sherlock kissed her forehead, squeezing her pinky with his. “Daddy’s bought you some of those biscuits you like, yeah? Once I wipe down the box, you can munch on those while Daddy and I talk.”

“I want to talk to him too.”

“Of course. And you certainly can.” Sherlock straightened and took her tiny hand in his. “Ready?”

Rosie nodded, holding his hand tightly.

Sherlock exhaled slowly before reaching down, grasping the door handle and swinging open the door. Sherlock’s eyes swung from the bags of groceries had been set on the doorstep neatly to his husband standing on the sidewalk near the curb, a grin blossoming on his face. Something welled up in his chest and he couldn’t help the massive smile taking over his face. He took a step forward before stopping himself. “John.”

“Daddy!” Rosie cried out his name and forgot herself, rushing towards him before being halted by Sherlock’s hand locked on hers.

“Hey, darling. Hello, sweet girl!” John looked between both of them with a smile that mirrored his expression on their wedding day. “I hope I got everything alright. The shops were insane. The shelves were wiped out of a lot of things.”

“Daddy, I miss you!” Rosie hung on to the end of Sherlock’s arm, as close to John as he would allow her.

John’s face softened. “I miss you too, baby. Are you having a good time with Papa?”

She nodded, looking at him. “Are you saving lots of people at the hospital?”

John’s face twitched. “I’m doing my very best.”

Rosie nodded, seriously. “That’s good. Papa says you should always do your best in your work.” 

John blinked. “Me, specifically?”

“I meant in general, John.” Sherlock pulled her back slightly, kneeling next to her. “Watson, can you see if you can tell which bag has your biscuits?”

Watson looked at the bags before pointing. “That one.”

“Very good.” Sherlock grabbed the tub of antibacterial wipes and wiped down the bag and the roll of biscuits before handing it to Rosie. “You may have two.” 

“Sherlock, it’s eight in the morning.” John frowned.

Sherlock gave him a glance. “She’s been very good. I’m sure we can allow an exception.”

“Now is not the time to begin forming bad habits.”

Sherlock paused, his jaw clenching. He turned to Rosie. “Do you need assistance opening the package, Watson?”

She shook her head and fumbled with the plastic. After a moment, she looked at Sherlock shyly. “Papa, please help?”

Sherlock’s mouth twitched and he popped open the wrapping. “Now, remember, just two. Can you sit right here while you eat them?”

She nodded and sat on the floor, squirming until she was comfortable.

Once his daughter was settled, Sherlock turned his attention back to disinfecting the groceries and to John. “With all due respect, John. As her father, I am authorized to make these kinds of decisions. Do not doubt my choices.”

John tightened his hand into a fist at his side, compressing his fingers together before releasing and shaking them out. “Right. Fine.”

“Must we fight over this, John? It’s been nine days since I’ve last seen you.” Sherlock’s voice quieted.

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry.” John nodded, his gaze falling to the pavement. “Has it only been nine days? Christ.”

Sherlock sat on the floor of the entryway, pulling the groceries into the house and wiping them down before setting them aside. “It has seemed like much longer. This is the longest we’ve been apart since-”

“Since before I moved back in.”

Sherlock nodded.

“I hate this just as much as you do.”

“Do you? Because forgive me if I seem a little unsure of myself.” Sherlock looked up suddenly. “You have not been the most communitive.”

“I’ve been busy! I’m a doctor in a hospital in the middle of a pandemic.”

Sherlock looked down at his hands. “You barely text me back. The first time we were able to see each other face to face was Wednesday. It took you seven days to manage to facetime me and we only talked for three minutes.”

“I’m here now.” John was quiet. “Sherlock, look at me, please. Sherlock.”

Sherlock met his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I am truly sorry I haven’t been as communicative as I should be. I will do better, alright? I promise.”

“No, I apologise.” Sherlock murmured. “I know things are chaotic at the hospital. It’s not your fault.” Sherlock separated the groceries into two piles, one for them and one for Mrs. Hudson.

“Sherlock…” John took a step forward, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “This is hard for me too. I want to touch you so much.”

Sherlock hesitated. “Could we not… hold hands? I could immediately disinfect afterwards.”

John shook his head. “Wouldn’t be wise for me to get that close.”

“It’s just holding hands.” Sherlock looked up at him from where he was sitting, his eyes heavy.

“It would defeat the entire purpose, Sherlock. I should get going.” John shuffled his feet on the sidewalk.

“For God’s sake, you just got here.” Sherlock huffed. “I’m sorry. I won’t say another thing. I am content to simply have you in front of me.”

“I’ll need to be at the hospital soon anyways.”

“Just a few more minutes. Rosie wanted to tell you about what we’ve been doing. You can spare a few minutes for your daughter.”

John sighed. “Alright, fine. Okay. She still in there?”

Sherlock held out his hand to Rosie. “Watson, come talk to Daddy.”

Rosie scrambled to her feet and stood next to Sherlock. He wrapped an arm around her waist as she handed Sherlock her half-eaten biscuit. “Hello, Daddy.”

John’s face softened and he knelt on the pavement outside to be closer to her eye level. “Hello, sweetheart. Have you been having fun with Papa?”

She nodded. “We’ve been playing a lot. Papa’s reading me _The Black Stallion_.”

“What’s that?”

“This boy is stuck on an island with a beautiful black horse.”

“Right. And... then what happens?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t finished it yet.” Rosie gave him a look.

“Right, right, sorry.” John smiled. “You’ll have to keep me updated on what happens.”

She nodded. “Can I call you and tell you?”

John glanced at Sherlock. “We’ll see, sweet girl. Papa and I will see what we can do.”

“Okay, because then I can tell you about the book.”

“We’ll do our best. I love you very much.”

“I love you too, Daddy.” She smiled at him. “When are you coming home?”

John hesitated. “Not for a while, I’m afraid. But you have Papa here to keep you company. You won’t really miss me that much.” He winked at her.

Rosie seemed placated and nodded. “Can I call you tonight?”

John faltered and Sherlock cut in, squeezing his arm around her waist. “We’ll have to see, Watson. Daddy might be busy saving lives tonight. But we’ll see if we can call him some other time, alright?”

She nodded at him. “Okay.”

“Good girl. Why don’t you take your biscuit, say goodbye to Daddy, and go upstairs? I’ll be right there. We can watch a bit of telly before breakfast.”

“She hasn’t even had breakfast yet?”

Sherlock glared at John. “We had a bit of a lie in this morning.” He kissed Rosie’s cheek. “Let’s go, Watson.”

Watson took her biscuit back and turned to John. “Bye, Daddy. Have a good day at work.” She smiled at him.

John smiled back, still kneeling on the pavement. “Thank you, love. Have a good day today.”

“Thank you!” Rosie turned and scrambled her way up the stairs.

John watched her go before turning his gaze back to Sherlock. “What?”

“It would be helpful if you did not criticize how I am raising our daughter in front of her.”

John raised his hands. “Alright. Alright, sorry.”

Sherlock huffed. “Why can we no longer have a normal conversation?”

“I don’t know, Sherlock.” John let his arms fall to his sides, his shoulders sagging as he sighed, disclosing his exhaustion.

“Thank you for the shopping.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I hope you’re getting rest.”

John shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Sherlock nodded.

“I should head to the hospital.”

“Please, be safe.”

“I’m doing my best.” John smiled tightly.

Sherlock twisted the antibacterial cloth in his hands. “If you can manage to call… even for a few moments. It would mean a lot to Watson. This has been difficult. Explaining to her why you’re not coming home. She just doesn’t understand.”

John nodded, looking at the pavement. He shuffled his feet a bit. “I know. And believe me when I say I hate it. I hate being away from you both like this. I’ll do my best, okay?”

Sherlock smiled slightly at him. “Thank you.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, John.”

John smiled slightly back. “I’ll text you later.”

“Goodbye. Have a good shift.”

“Thanks. Bye.” John waved slightly, taking a few steps backwards before swiveling and walking down the street away from Baker Street.

Sherlock watched him go, the feeling in his throat growing tighter and tighter with every step John took away from him.


	7. 23 March 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock takes Rosie on a walk in Regent’s park and it helps clear their heads. It’s predicted that John will be gone for another month. 12 days in quarantine.

It had only been 12 days, but already it had begun to feel like a lifetime. The drudgery of March was never-ending and while Sherlock adored spending time with Rosie, there was such a thing as too much of a good thing. And he was quickly approaching his limit of exactly how much more he could handle of being cooped up in Baker Street with a child who had a seemingly unending source of energy that rivaled his own. After grinding his fingernails into the flesh of his thigh through his pajamas trousers to prevent himself from snapping at Watson, for God’s sake please stop humming the plinky little theme song to _The Worst Witch_ , Sherlock realised that perhaps it was time for a walk. John had said walking was acceptable if proper safety measures were taken, and it was legally allowed at the moment. What a fool he had been for not taking advantage of that opportunity until now. 

Sherlock stood and clapped his hands. “Right. Watson, let’s go get you dressed. We’re going outside.” 

Rosie tilted her head to look up at him from where she was seated on the floor playing with her horses. “What time is it?” 

Sherlock closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. “It’s nearly one o’clock.”

Rosie nodded as she absorbed this information, “Why?” 

“Because that’s what time it is.” 

“No, why do we go outside now?” 

“Because it’ll be good for both of us. Now, let’s go.” He reached down and held out his hand for her. 

After a moment, Rosie scrambled to her feet and pattered towards him, slipping her tiny hand into his. 

Once she was properly bundled up, Sherlock hefted her collapsible stroller over one shoulder and walked outside with Rosie, closing and locking the door behind them. Thoroughly covered with their coat and gloves, Sherlock shifted his jaw under the paper mask he had put on, feeling it slide down on his face and glanced at the mask he had placed on Rosie. She hated it but was dutifully not playing with it after he had been very firm with her about it. He felt ridiculous, but John had been quite forceful in his insistence. At least they were able to go outside. With a deep breath, Sherlock hiked Rosie up onto his hip and they set off down the road towards Regent’s park. 

The air was crisp and cool with a smattering of grey clouds floating above them in the blue sky. After crossing the main road and navigating their way onto the grey paved paths of the park, Sherlock let Rosie slide down to walk herself, keeping a keen eye on their surroundings. There were quite a few people up and about and maintaining space from them would be paramount. He watched as Rosie crouched and walked slowly towards a gathering of pigeons close to the boating lake. His lips twitched in amusement as the pigeon she was attempting to get close to walked briskly away from the approaching child. “Watson, let’s walk a bit. I’m sure there will be more fowl to investigate further along the path.”

She turned back to him and nodded. “Okay.” She skipped back to his side and slipped her hand into his. 

Sherlock squeezed the precious tiny hand gently and walked slowly along the edge of the lake, keeping her close to him and away from the passersby. None of them were wearing masks and while he was mortified at their carelessness, he couldn’t help the red flush that was forming on the back of his neck at the looks he and his daughter were getting for wearing them. His grip tightened slightly on the hand of the prancing child next to him. 

She looked up at him and pointed, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Papa, playground!” 

Sherlock glanced up at the Hanover Gate playground quickly approaching. “Not today, I’m afraid, Watson. Why don’t we go to the grass and play together today?” 

Her face scrunched up in the beginnings of a fuss. Sherlock held his breath and watched as she suddenly sighed, looking in the direction of the playground. “Will you play Black and Alec with me?” 

Sherlock blinked, recognizing the characters from their nightly reading of _The Black Stallion_. “I’ll play anything you wish, but I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with that game.” 

“It’s like the beach. You be Black and I’m Alec.” 

Sherlock’s lips twitched, remembering the section she was referring to, when Alec chased the black horse across the beach in an attempt to ride him, only to eventually lose the horse, unable to catch up with him. An elaboration of tag. “Ah, of course. Very well.” 

“But I’ll catch you. I’ll catch you. Not like in the book. I want to catch you.” 

Sherlock nodded. “As you wish, Watson.” 

“Papa, what time is it?” 

Sherlock glanced at his wristwatch. “Two fifteen.” 

Rosie nodded and repeated the words in time to her skipping. “Two fifteen. Two fifteen. Two fifteen.” 

Once they reached the wide expanse of green, Sherlock found a somewhat secluded spot and set down the stroller. He and Rosie spent the rest of the afternoon chasing after one another in the fresh air. Sherlock made sure to stay just out of her reach until the height of the chase, when he allowed himself to be caught and tumbled to the grass, Rosie flinging herself on top of him. Eventually, after a final capture, Rosie threw herself onto Sherlock’s chest and nuzzled against him, curling up in his arms. He lay back against the green and gazed up at the sky, catching his breath and holding Rosie close. Her mask had come off during the chase and he had tucked it away in his pocket. He wasn’t worried about exposure, since they had been playing so far from others. For a few hours, he had managed to forget about the predicament of the world. Looking at the bright blue sky helped ease the claustrophobic terror building in his chest, the fear of the unknown. Without John to ground him, the world seemed perilously abstract. That morning, John had called him at first light to inform him that the initial three-week estimate was a gross miscalculation. Instead of another week of separation, there would be at least another four weeks. The news had crushed Sherlock’s spirit and endurance, leading to a stressful morning where everything Watson did felt like an antagonistic reminder that there would be no reprieve anytime soon. No quick return from John to make the moments pass easier. It would continue to be him and Watson for another four weeks. 

As he ran a hand through the golden curls of their daughter where she rested against him, Sherlock breathed deeply and closed his eyes, feeling the warm sunlight against his face. They would make it through. Somehow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Questions and comments are always welcome.


	8. 26 March 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At 8, Sherlock and Rosie stand near the open window and clap their hands for John. Rosie asks for Daddy at bedtime and cries.

“Are you ready, Watson?” Sherlock called out as he stood near the open window, a breeze blowing the gauzy curtains inward. A sense of awkward uncertainty hung over him, impossible to dislodge despite the pleasant touch of air against his cheek. Rosie ran in from the kitchen where she had been tacking up her latest artwork on the fridge with magnets. Her wild, eager approach eased the tension in his chest, caused by the discomfort of not having John at his side.

“Yes, yes!” she cried, enthusiastically clapping her small hands as she stood in front of him. 

Sherlock knelt and wrapped his own hands around hers. “Not yet. It’s nearly eight. But we have a few more minutes. You know why we’re doing this, yes?” 

Rosie nodded. “We’re clapping for Daddy.” 

“Yes, that’s right, because Daddy is very brave... That’s why he’s not here right now. He’s being extremely brave and helping those who are sick and saving their lives.” 

Rosie nodded, her wide, solemn eyes making her appear well beyond her young age. “I want Daddy to come home.” 

“I know,” Sherlock replied softly, feeling his chest and throat tighten as the tension returned. “However, if you clap extra loud, perhaps Daddy can hear you, alright?” 

Rosie’s face lit up and she stood on her tiptoes, looking out the window at the darkened street. “Really? He’s not outside.” 

“Well, I’ll be filming you, so he’ll hear you either way.” Sherlock’s lips twitched. “Ready?” 

Watson nodded, bouncing up and down on her toes as she peered out the window. Sherlock glanced at his wristwatch and checked his phone, propped up on the desk to record Rosie’s performance. The clock switched from 19:59 to 20:00 and he hit record. “Alright, Watson, go ahead.” 

Immediately, Rosie started clapping, still staring out the window. “Papa, you’re supposed to clap too.” 

Sherlock grimaced. Pushing down the surge of embarrassment he felt at the idea of pointlessly clapping at a randomly set time, he knelt next to his daughter and brought his hands together in a loud clap. Despite his uncertainties, he sent a small smile towards the camera, knowing John would watch it later. They clapped for a few more seconds before Sherlock prepared himself to reach over and turn the camera off, ready to prepare Rosie for bed when the sound of someone clapping outside the window caught his attention. He ducked his head out next to Rosie’s small one. There were lights on in the apartment down the street, a shadow outlined by the open window, hands raised and meeting with loud, resounding claps that echoed their own. Something clenched in Sherlock’s chest and he continued clapping, feeling a little less alone. 

Suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch, the patter of applause grew, and Sherlock could hear and see people coming to their doorways and windows and applauding. A dull rush of noise rose from around them, people applauding in the neighborhoods and streets surrounding theirs. Rosie leaned further out the window, calling out to the street, “We’re clapping for my Daddy!” 

“Watson.” Sherlock laid a calming hand on her shoulder, startled at her audacity. 

“Where does your dad work, love?” a voice responded from across the street. 

Rosie turned to Sherlock questioningly and Sherlock cleared his throat. 

“St. Bart’s hospital.” 

Rosie turned back to the window and shouted, “St. Bart’s hospital! He’s the best doctor in the world!” 

The voice called back, “Thank your father for us! He’s doing good work!” 

Rosie ducked her head back inside the window. Turning to the camera, she said solemnly, “The person across the street says thank you, Daddy.” 

Tears pricked at the corner of Sherlock’s eyes and he resisted the urge to sniffle, sudden warmth rising in his chest at her fervent words. “Come here, Watson.” He held his arms out and Rosie ran into them, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“I miss him,” she said quietly. 

“I know.” Sherlock ran a hand down her back before he closed his eyes, aching for the missing piece of their family. “I do, too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Questions and comments are always welcome. 
> 
> This is the final written chapter of Bee Socks. I have decided not to continue with this story for mental health reasons and lack of creative drive. Chapter 9 will be a summary of what I had intended to happen with the story to give you all some semblance of closure. Thank you so much for reading. xx


	9. Concluding Summary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A summary of what occurs in the rest of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not continue writing for this story, but I had concepts of what would happen. I think the pandemic became much larger than any of us really anticipated and so it is with great resolve that I conclude this story how I can and put it to rest.

The concept for this fic was to follow Sherlock, Rosie, and John's journey along the major events that occurred during the pandemic. Those events became far too frequent and too many for me to follow. 

**Chapter 9: 29 March 2020**

Chapter Summary: 

Real life: N/A

Story: Sherlock has a meltdown because John was only supposed to be gone for a month, then two months, now it’s predicted to be up to six months. John reassures him that it’s probably more like the beginning/mid May. Then he’ll be home.

18 days in quarantine

**Chapter 10: 4 April 2020**

Chapter Summary: 

Real world news: A five year old with underlying health conditions is the latest among UK victims. 4,313 dead.

Story: Doctors are using bin bags as protective measures. Working 13 hours a day. John is constantly on call and working overtime. He facetimes with Sherlock at the end of a shift and says how utterly exhausted he is and how hard it is to say that they’re doing their best but are they? The equipment is not enough and old and it’s so hard to provide the protection they need to take care of these people. But it’s a great comfort that Sherlock, Rosie, and Mrs. H are safe during this time.

24 days in quarantine

**Chapter 11: 5 April 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: PM Admitted to hospital.

Story: Sherlock watches the broadcast of the Queen and it settles him a little, the comparison and justification. He thinks of having to send Rosie away to live with strangers in the country and that thought is abominable. So, he is thankful that at least he can be with her. He calls Mycroft and asks if he’s okay. Sherlock is ashamed it took him a month to think of him. Mycroft is fine.

25 days in quarantine

**Chapter 12: 9 April 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: 7,978 deaths, “stay inside, but this is working”, 3rd round of applause for NHS staff.

Story: Day with Rosie. Sherlock takes her on an adventure around the flat and he ends the day filming her clapping for John out the window.

29 days in quarantine

**Chapter 13: 12 April 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: 11,329 deaths – no immediate changes.

Story: Unplanned

32 days

**Chapter 14: 16 April 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: UK extends government lockdown for at least three more weeks

Story: Unplanned

36 days

**Chapter 15: 18 April 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: UK extends government lockdown until the end of June.

Story: Unplanned

38 days

**Chapter 16: 23 April 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: UK begins human trials on vaccine.

Story: Unplanned

43 days

**Chapter 17: 27 April 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: PM returns to work.

Story: Unplanned

47 days

**Chapter 18: 30 April 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: “Past the peak” of COVID says PM.

Story: John says there’s really noway to know that. And they’re getting more and more cases every day.

50 days

**Chapter 19: 1 May 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: Providing 100,000 COVID-19 tests a day.

Story: Mycroft is ill and is in a private room at Bart’s seeing specialists. John is there as well. 

51 days

**Chapter 20: 5 May 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: N/A

Story: More progress on Mycroft. His fever has not broken. He is now on a ventilator.

55 days

**Chapter 21: 8 May 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: N/A

Story: Mycroft’s fever breaks and he’s starting to recover.

58 days

**Chapter 21: 10 May**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: PM announces the beginning of easing lockdown.

Story: Unplanned

60 days

**Chapter 22: 12 May**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: Individuals are now advised to wear face masks

Story: Unplanned

62 days

**Chapter 23: 14 May 2020**

Chapter Summary:

Real life: Survey of 11,000 individuals states that potentially 1 in 400 people are infected with COVID.

Story: Unplanned

64 days

Chapter 24: 17 June 2020

Chapter Summary: 

Real life: Dexamethasone can be officially used to treat patients.

Story: Unplanned. 

\------------

As quarantine continues and the death rates sore, Sherlock grew steadily more depressed and struggled to look after his daughter. John grew increasingly more unavailable and Sherlock began to suspect John was cheating on him with a nurse from the hospital. 

John did not, in fact have an affair, but came very close to having one. John doesn't end up seeing his family for five months as he works in the COVID unit. 

Mycroft almost died, but survived his brush with COVID. There was going to be angst there about how he might die and Sherlock wouldn't get to say goodbye. Additional exploration of how their parents are handling quarantine where they live and that isolation. 

This story concludes with the announcement and beginnings of distribution of the COVID vaccine. John is home with his family for Christmas and they are all happy and safe and re-isolating together. John is off the rota at his hospital and is taking leave. Happy Christmas, the end. 

\------------

The ending is not very realistic, but I can only reflect life so much. We move out of this moment and into a future where the end of COVID is in sight. Please stay warm during this holiday season and make safe choices! xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Questions and comments are always welcome. If you have any questions regarding anything I have mentioned in this summary, please ask and I will do my best to answer.


End file.
